


Bullets, Bugs, and Broken Things

by Coyacoonadillo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Blackwatch Sombra, Canon Divergent, Gen, Reyes Strays, They're soldiers they get fucked up, based on prerelease Sombra headcanons, battledad gabe is important to my soul, misplaced joints, reyes's strays are a force to be reckoned with, self indulgent, shitty stray siblings are important to my soul, who the hell needs romance when u have guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8855296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coyacoonadillo/pseuds/Coyacoonadillo
Summary: An infiltration of a Talon base goes awry, and Sombra does her best.





	1. Chapter 1

“Sombra, report,” came the familiar sound of concrete grating on steel that masqueraded as a voice.

  
“I’ve reached the control room, seems clear.” Aside from the easily dispatched technician she left by the door, that is. The hacker left her hand splayed across the terminal before her and let the violet glow fill her vision as she scanned the system controls. The data streamed before her in a comforting flicker. There. “What’s your location?”

  
This time, Jesse’s obnoxiously thick drawl poured through the comm. “Sector three. Reyes got a lil’ tied up, so it’d be mighty nice if you’d get this door unlocked.”

  
“He didn’t waste any time, did he?” Sombra chuckled to herself. “This is what happens when you don’t let me handle the alarms before you idiots dive in, guns blazing.” A few simple gestures opened the door in question and locked all the ones behind, hopefully keeping reinforcements from interfering with the mission. “Should be open now. Tell Reyes he doesn’t need to obliterate the opposition if it wastes time.” For good measure, she sorted through the file trees to find the controls for the control room she had taken over, locking her door and killing the power to the system before pulling up video feed of the attack team. The clang of metal echoed through the space, a reassurance that she would be left to her business undisturbed.

  
Through the gritty image, she watched as Gabriel Reyes smashed his knee into some poor Talon fucker who’d made the bad decision of standing up to the Strike Commander too long. The team started going through the door, followed by Reyes in the back. He glanced up into the camera with a short wave of a shotgun in acknowledgement and spoke over the comms, “Copy. Keep watching our backs, kid.”

  
Easy enough. She hooked a nearby chair with her foot and dragged it over, plopping down into the forgiving cushion and kicking back as she monitored the video feeds of every camera she could access. Now it was a game: keep reinforcements from messing with her players and open a path for her players to reach the goal. Sighing in boredom, she trawled the unnecessary files, replacing important documents with pictures of cats and her personal favorite, a simple purple skull. Some snacks would have been appreciated.

  
The countless identical black Talon uniforms swarmed like ants across her view, endlessly frustrated by her locked doors and cut power. The minutes flowed together as she looked for anything interesting in the files, anything worth her time.

  
Sombra almost missed the group of ants changing course, heading towards the lightly defended control room rather than the hell being raised by Reyes and his team. Scrambling, she activated her thermoptic camo, took a deep breath, and opened the comm channel again. “Looks like a squad is headed my way. You boys almost done?” She asked with no urgency. Eight men would be easy to handle with her regulation knife and nonregulation Uzi, but would distract her from shuttling the Blackwatch team to their objective...whatever it was. Reyes wasn't keen on sharing.

  
Well, no time to waste. It would be best to take full advantage of her total camouflage, she supposed, so she removed her hand from the terminal and let the beautiful violet glow disappear violently as she took up position crouching by the door, knife in hand.

  
There was an awful screeching of metal on metal that lasted too damn long as the Talon squad tried to break through the door. She almost got bored waiting by the time they finally busted through, pouring into the room with the momentum of their efforts. They were a fungus, spreading to check any corner for signs of the missing infiltrator.

  
She let the ants in their horrible shiny carapaces spread through the room before slipping behind the one nearest the door and covering his mouth with a gloved hand as she summarily slit his throat. There was something else over his mouth, though. Some kind of…

  
Dropping the new corpse, she glanced at his face. A gas mask covered his mouth and nose. Quiet steps on light feet took her along the wall away from the body before any one Talon agent remaining could pinpoint her location, no matter how much they shouted and pointed guns. Taking a moment to evaluate the situation in the room, she noted the rest were wearing gas masks. New uniform, maybe?

  
Now time was of the essence. Seven more men to drop and little time before they found her, despite the thermoptic camouflage. Stepping out from the wall, she grabbed the nearest fool and made the dead body a new friend in the Talon afterlife. They could get together for purgatory mimosas or something.

  
Two down.

  
All the guns in the room swung to her position as the agent with the small silver badge barked some order Sombra couldn't be bothered to listen to, as she was more concerned by the object he threw.

  
Shiny like the shells of the ants around her, dark gray and the size of a baseball, it missed her by a mile. She almost had to suppress a laugh, such an outburst could give away her position. The gray shiny object collided with one of the racks of terminals in the room in a burst of hazy white fog that quickly spread.

  
_Shit_.

  
Drawing and firing her Uzi in one smooth motion, she took down another two agents while hissing into her comm. “Lo necesito refuerzo, _ahora_.” The erupting gunfire distracted her from the response.

  
“McCree and Langston, control room. Now.”

  
The thermoptic camo would last between bursts of shots as long as she remained fairly unharmed, so she did her best to hold her breath and ration what air she could, assuming the fog shit was more than just a visibility tactic. Firing in bursts, she snaked a line across the room, doubling back and making herself difficult to follow without a line of sight.

  
This didn't look like it would be over anytime soon. At the next terminal she skidded past, she dragged her fingers across the metal, almost digging grooves with the claws of her gloves as it briefly glowed. She'd had just long enough to accomplish what she needed, thankfully. The Talon bugs were making her life more difficult than need be. “I opened you up a path. Good news is, I closed off side passages so you shouldn't have _extra_ company,” she hissed under her breath, minimizing the chance of being heard except over comms. The echoing of gunshots in the room covered such whispers easily.

  
Three down.

  
“And the bad news?” Reyes’s response was gruff, immediate, same as always.

  
“You only got one way to go--” she broke off, coughing, “and you're gonna have to fight your way back once you get...whatever. Or whoever.”

  
“Acknowledged. Backup is en route. Keep it together till then, kid.”

  
Five more men to go, and now Sombra flickered like a beacon, her thermoptics going in and out with flashes of light every six and a half seconds. Slightly more panicked, she wove through the terminals and towers of processors in a mad dash, managing to keep her head out of the body of the dense gas cloud which spread low along the floor.

  
Another corner rounded into a corridor of tech wonderfully free of shiny Talon agents, though she could hear two hot on her heels as she changed magazines. If she could round a corner at the junction ahead before her thermoptics blinked off again, she could leave them scratching their heads. In her rush, her toe snagged on something hard where nothing should be. She toppled forward and into a terminal, twisting too hard to catch her weight on both arms, instead landing just on her left.

  
There was a sickening pop and her left arm collapsed underneath her as she bit back a scream into a low, drawn out hiss, keeping her tongue well clear of her teeth. _Fuck_.

  
She'd tripped over another body. Huh. Four down, then.

  
Looking up through the fog, thick enough to blur her vision, she raised her Uzi as the two fools following her rounded the corner, their own guns raised as they waited for her thermoptics to flicker again.

  
Four seconds.

  
A standstill, Sombra frozen and choking down the pained scream she _deserved_ to let out, dammit, for fear of being immediately spotted.

  
Two seconds.

  
The men frozen, maybe wondering whose throat would get sliced next. She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction at that thought.

  
Sombra flickered back into existence, immediately spraying low caliber bullets across the two in front of her. After a delay, they sprayed right back. A round pierced her finally dulling left arm through the bicep, ripping a shout from previously clenched teeth. One finally dropped, bleeding from half a dozen holes. Another shot grazed her right shoulder before she dropped the other.

  
Magazine change. She should have brought more magazines.

  
Trying to push herself up off the ground failed miserably, both arms rendered useless in the act by bolts of pain, and she collapsed in a coughing fit. Each breath wasn't deep enough, was too deep, was another second wasted. The door was her best bet, get to the door, get away from the fog which hurt to breathe and stung her eyes. Relying on the pierced arm because hell, at least it was still in place, she dragged herself out of the corridor and toward the door, inch by agonizing inch, breaking to curl in on herself and cough periodically. The only thing keeping the last agents from getting her already was the maze-like layout of the room, nigh-impossible to navigate.

  
One more corner, six agents down, another short coughing fit. She followed the glow of light pouring through the door until finally it was in view, just twelve feet away.

  
Ten feet left to drag.

  
Nine feet left to drag. Her arms screamed in rebellion, filling her veins and bones with liquid fire.

  
Heavy footsteps and clinking metal echoed down the hallway past the door.

  
Eight feet.

  
_Click_.

  
To her right were the shiny boots of one of the two Talon agents still standing. She didn't have to look up to see the barrel of the pulse rifle pointed at her. “Hands behind your head.”

  
No sudden movements, no way to get her Uzi drawn quick enough as her right arm shook under her weight. There was no way in hell she'd wanted to go down like this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyes's Strays are the worst, an annoyance to all who witness. Bullshittery ensues.

“Howdy.” The single word was punctuated by the crack of a gunshot and the dull thump of a body hitting the ground.

  
Looking up, she saw Jesse Motherfucking McCree confidently stride through the doorway, paying no mind to the final agent raising a rifle from his position by the control panel. The agent’s finger twitched--

  
“Jesse, down!” Her voice was hoarse and weakening, giving out on her in the cloud of fog.

  
The gunslinger dropped as she adjusted her Uzi, not even fully raising it, her arm not allowing her to raise the gun any more, and pulled her own trigger. At the crack, the body dropped with a single, leaking hole in the neck and Sombra curled inward into another coughing fit. Jesse fired another shot into the fool’s head, for good measure, before squatting by Sombra.

  
“Took your own sweet time,” she grumbled through clenched teeth, trying to ignore every ache and injury.

  
“You seem to’ve handled yourself well enough,” he said with an obnoxious smirk. “Need a hand?”

  
“Just help me get up, sabes?”

  
Jesse nodded and slid an arm behind her shoulders and under her right arm, then stood slowly.

  
“Agh, stop stop stop stop _stop_!” Pain radiated from her dislocated shoulder and gunshot wound, sending white streaks across her vision. “Me duele el brazo, _Jesus_.”

  
“Sorry, kiddo,” Jesse said, lowering her carefully. “The hell did you do? Ya look like you’ve been hit by a train, then it backed up and ran over you again.”

  
“Wow, gracias. It’s not like it’s _that_ bad. Just fucked up a bunch of assholes and got a little messed up in the arms an--” she broke off again, coughing. “Mierda.”

  
“Alright you’re comin’ off the ground, one way or another, ‘fore that train runs you flat _again_ ,” he said flatly, slipping an arm under her knees and the other behind her back and lifting with a single grunt, in spite of loud protests. “Huh. You’d think with how much garbage you eat, you’d be a helluva lot heavier.”

  
“It’s not garbage, es _clasico_ , you uncultured swine.”

  
“It’s Doritos.”

  
“Calláte,” Sombra muttered, shifting her weight to something a little more comfortable with a grimace, trying to ignore the pressure on the wounds and Jesse’s almost obnoxious concern. Maybe she could divert his attention, so he’d act less like a damned fussy hen. “If you carry me like this in front of literally anyone else, I will end you, Jesse McCree.”

  
He chuckled and started out the door and down the hallway, cradling the hacker carefully. “What’re you gonna do, post dumb things about me on the web?”

  
Success. It took a moment of thought to choose something truly evil, truly unbearable and unforgivable. “I’ll shave that damn soul patch of yours. And that peach fuzz you call facial hair.”

  
Jesse gasped, dramatic and exaggerated with just a _hint_ of actual worry, while still managing even, measured steps that wouldn't jostle his armful of Sombra. “You wouldn’t.”

  
“It’s an embarrassment to every self-respecting member of Blackwatch.” Sombra couldn’t fight a smirk, even as the coughing set in again.

  
“You wouldn't be able to. Could you even reach?”

  
“Unfortunately I'm eye level with that monstrosity and you'll have to sleep sometime, pendejo.”

  
He huffed, and sidestepped a black-shelled body lying in a pool of blood which happened to inconveniently block the hallway. “Five bucks says Angela’s gonna have you on an IV drip,” he said with a chuckle, as if to redirect her attention from the demise of his facial hair.

  
“I’ll get her to let me just drink a lot of water. Besides, I’m not dehydrated, it’s my respiratory system,” she said.

  
“Five more bucks says you get an oxygen mask the second we get to the drop ship.”

  
“You’re on.” Last she’d checked, the dropship was short on most medical supplies, and an O2 mask shouldn’t be wasted on someone not in immediate mortal danger. It's as if he _wanted_ to give her free money, she thought with a smirk.

  
Jesse grinned with the satisfaction of a gamble taken, then said, “Look, kiddo, Langston’s up ahead and if you don’t wanna be carried like this, come up with something better. Pronto.”

  
“Yeah yeah, just set me down already.” As her feet touched the ground, she directed, “Same as before, just under my other arm, pendejo. This one’s uh...not exactly in place.”

  
“Sombra…” He shook his head almost in disbelief, moving into place.

  
“Don't ‘ _Sombra_ ’ me.” Standing up now was easier. Still hurt like a bitch, but a gentler, less furious bitch. “Vámonos,” she demanded, and Jesse obliged, rolling his eyes at her demeanor.

  
As they rounded the corner, Langston was there to greet them, rifle at the ready. The longer hallway he was guarding was littered with shiny little Talon shells, likely his work, judging by the wispy smoke rising from the barrel of the rifle. The guard gave the two a quick nod of acknowledgement as they approached, Jesse responding with his characteristic lazy hat-tipping salute that grated on Strike Commander Morrison’s nerves and sense of propriety. “No one on your tails, then?” Langston asked with an air of distracted indifference, checking down the hallway behind them.

  
“Cleared out everyone in our path. All side doors are closed and by the way, you’re welcome for that,” Sombra said, doing her damnedest to straighten up. Damn these tall assholes. Damn them to hell.

  
Langston eyed her skeptically, quirking a brow as he adjusted his grip on the rifle. “Looks like you took quite a beating,” he said flatly, looking down at Sombra, whose height was further compromised by having to lean on Jesse.

  
“You should see los chingados que este me hicieron.”

  
“No time to. ‘Sides, there’s not much left to see, not unless you got an interest in artful smears,” Jesse interrupted as their comrade opened his mouth to ask something, stretching the truth as he was wont to do. “We waitin’ on Reyes to get back?”

  
“Covering the hallway until he does.”

  
“Shouldn’t be much to cover,” Sombra added. “All the doors are locked, so they either have to waste time cutting through a door or come straight down the way we came. Numbers don’t mean much in a bottleneck.”

  
“True,” Langston said, looking down at Sombra, “but _three_ functioning hands with firearms are better than two, even here.” As if he was teaching math to a small child.

  
“I'm fine enough to shoot, if that's what you're asking. I almost couldn't hear from your high horse though,” Sombra responded, the bitter taste of insult curling on her tongue. Before she could continue, she felt a cool metal hand on her shoulder and could practically hear the low, drawn out _whoa there_. Dammit, Jesse.

  
But he didn't actually say anything, staring down the hallway, his brow furrowed. Following his line of sight yielded nothing, but the ensuing silence revealed the clatter of boots crashing down the hallway, out of sight. Without a word, both reloaded their weapons, Sombra with some fumbling and difficulty.

  
Her comm buzzed and the voice of Strike Commander Gabriel Reyes crackled in her ear. “Coming in hot. Be ready to roll out.” The short transmission was punctuated by the echo of gunshots down the hallway. This should be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the Reyes train, choo choo bitches. 
> 
> forgive my patchy spanish and uneventful chapter please. As before, it's not beta read bc apparently I have a death wish.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Reyes Train stops for NOTHING.

Wordlessly, the three agents took up firing positions and watched as Gabriel Reyes and the rest of his strike team rounded a distant corner and came sprinting down the hallway, a horde of Talon agents in tow. The team was too close to the agents behind them to get a clear shot, so the three simply held. Waiting. 

 

Sombra adjusted the grip on her gun, coughing into her shoulder as she let the group draw nearer. Fifty yards and closing. The near-constant activity had been doing no good on her lungs, her lungs weren't doing an exemplary job of oxygenating. But the break in activity did no better, allowing her body a moment to complain of each inconvenience. Her shoulder was still not in place, and the longer she had to think about it, the bullet wounds ramped up from a dull, ignored ache towards hellfire in her skin. A cramp creeped into each and every muscle, some she didn't even know she had, like a virus, spreading from the outside in. When this is over, she promised herself silently, she would lay down and curl into herself infinitely, creating a black hole of Sombra just to make the cramps STOP. For now, she fought the urge to curl, to stop, and focused on holding her aim steady. 

 

Jesse made the first shot, sharpshooter that he was, and a shiny bug fell backwards, barely impeding the rush behind as they tumbled over the body like flowing oil. The second shot similarly came from the Peacemaker. The next crack was a bullet hitting the wall behind Sombra, over her dislocated shoulder. She could barely afford it a glance. They had their attention. Wonderful. 

 

As Reyes and the rest of the team reached the point held by the three, they formed up, firing into the lines of Talon goons. Sombra opened fire with her Uzi, careful to burst fire to save her diminishing supply of ammunition. The sad jingle in her vest pocket served as a reminder of the ever-shrinking firepower she wielded. Dammit, can't even skimp on ammo on hacking missions. 

 

“We break for the dropship as soon as we bust their line enough to run,” the commander growled, half over the comms, firing his shotguns into the mess of it all. 

 

The bugs dropped left and right, and not just a few from Sombra's burst shots to centers of mass. Those that didn't drop pulled back, presumably to wait on reinforcements. Without a word needed, the Strike team turned with Reyes in the lead and ran. 

 

Sombra had always been among, if not  _ the _ fastest in Blackwatch, and bit back a grumble at her position, winded and wounded and running in the middle of the pack. At least there were some slower, or at least taking up formation behind her. 

 

Though their path did not branch, thanks to her own last minute precaution, it still curved and bent enough to give temporary reprieve from the following group of Talon agents and the peppering fire that still rained down behind. Other than a few bleeding limbs and some bruises, there appeared to be no casualties, and the bends in the path helped prevent the Talon agents from easily crippling the agents running behind Sombra. 

 

Rounding another curve, Sombra tried to slip to the outer edge of the group to get a better view of what lay both ahead and behind, and was stopped by a hand on her arm. Holding position in the loose formation, she glared up at Jesse, who shrugged. 

 

Home stretch. The path lay almost straight in front of them, with no more curves according to the map Sombra had used. Not far outside the doors, the dropship waited to pick them up directly from the compound, instead of some discreet distant rendezvous point. 

 

With the end in sight, the Blackwatch team picked up speed, forcing Sombra to keep pace. Not that she would complain, no. Not here, not now. But her lungs screamed, her arm burned, and the dropship seemed as far as ever. So of course, sixty meters ahead, one of the doors she had been so careful to lock had to bust open, spilling black Talon carapaces into the hallway and into their path. 

 

As the team ran up onto the Talon agents standing between them and their ride home, they smoothly raised their guns and adjusted formation to avoid friendly fire. Reyes drew a second shotgun and practically dove into the group of enemy operatives, whirling and firing shotgun shells almost point blank and pummeling any poor fool who came to close when he did run out of shells. 

 

The staccato of rifles was grating on her nerves, the veritable sea of shiny black armor of the agents who couldn’t just accept that they were going to be mowed down and this intel would belong to Blackwatch, the ever-present burning. She rattled off a few quick shots low, still moving forward with the constant flow of the Blackwatch team.

 

“Hey, Sombra, you’re missin’. What would Amari say?” Jesse called over the roar in the hallway.

 

“She’d say shut the hell up and mind your own business,” Sombra said, watching her targets grab at their knees and hit the ground with their next attempted steps. 

 

“Guess you’re not wrong,” he said almost wistfully, cracking off another shot. 

 

When enough of the Talon agents were on the ground, dead or otherwise, to no longer be a physical barrier between them and the exit, the team spilled past the remaining agents and their commander, who still seemed wrapped up in obliterating the opposition. A snarl was plastered on his face and his blows landed with dull, resounding thuds. Even out of ammunition, he was a menace.

 

“Gabe, come on!”

 

Looking over her shoulder, Sombra saw him land one more elbow in a kidney before sprinting forward to catch up to his team, though hanging in the back to make sure everyone made it. 

 

The dropship hovered mercifully just outside the compound, hatch lowered. The team ahead poured in, hopping up into the ship, some grabbing the edge and hurdling. Before Sombra could even contemplate heaving herself into the ship, which hung a few feet up in the air, Jesse leaped up and hooked his metal arm around her chest. Before she could even take a breath to complain, he hauled her up, deposited her unceremoniously on the floor, and leaned down to offer Reyes a hand up. 

 

Reyes brushed off the offer and heaved himself aboard with significantly less ease than Jesse, but still graceful and practiced. “I’m not that old, kid.” 

 

With the commander now on board, the dropship took off before Sombra could quite get her footing. She swayed and stumbled, falling forward onto arms that wouldn’t support her weight in their current condition and folded under the force, leaving her on her face. Cursing under her breath in exasperation, she rolled onto her side, ready to roll onto her back and work her way back to her feet. 

 

Boots blocked her line of sight. With a sigh, she looked up the legs connected to the boots connected to the commander. His arms were crossed and fingers of his left hand tapping on his right arm, his face hard to read beyond “disappointed” at this angle. 

 

“Hola.”

 

“How come the supposedly stealthiest member of this team sustained the most damage?”

 

“Look.” She rolled onto her back, to sit up with sheer power of momentum and abdominals. “Things didn’t go quite as planned, s--” Trying to sit up in a crunch wasn’t her best idea. The strain loosed another coughing fit that doubled her over for several moments. “--sir.”

 

As everyone strapped themselves in more safely, Reyes squatted by her. Probably to lower his center of gravity so he wouldn’t fall too. Probably. “Report on injuries.”

 

She sighed and took a breath. “Two bullet wounds. Think you can see them both. Haven’t checked for exit holes. Think I popped my left arm out. Got a faceful of some kind of gas they must’ve just developed. Sir.” Short and to the point.

 

“Can I get a--oh. Perfect.” Before Reyes could finish whatever he was going to ask for, an oxygen mask was shoved into his hand by none other than Jesse Goddamn McCree. Looking over Reyes’s shoulder, he made eye contact with Sombra and raised his good hand, wiggling all five fingers in a truly sloppy mockery of her wave, a toothy grin hiding behind a facade of innocence. Sombra rolled her eyes at him as Reyes handed her the mask and she tried to hook it on one handed, her left arm not quite cooperating with the range of motion. 

 

After her second try and almost dropping it, he reached for it and easily secured it to her face and checked the flow before rocking back onto his heels again. “You’re gonna need to move to the benches before we get much farther, kid. So unless you want to be carried, you better figure out something fast.”

 

“Yeah, it’d be a real shame if you had to get carried--”

 

“Shut it, Jesse,” Sombra snarled, half under her breath. 

 

Jesse shrugged again before heading to the benches and leaning on the wall by his supposed intended seat, a smirk peeking out from the shadow of his hat.

 

“Gimme an arm and I can get up.”

 

“That’s a pretty intense procedure, I’m sure Jesse can attest to that,” Reyes said while offering his arm. “This might help, though.”

 

With a breath through her teeth, Sombra braced herself for the coming burn in her arms and shoulders, then grabbed his arm with both hands and pulled herself up from the ground to a seated position. Moving her legs underneath herself, she then used his arm to balance while pushing herself back up. Goddamn. “Okay okay I got it now, Jesus,” she said, shooing away his arm and his help and marching over to the empty spot on the bench, bearing the indignity of the oxygen mask and Jesse’s smug correctness with her shoulders back and chin up. 

 

Once she strapped herself in, Reyes grabbed a rail on the wall and gave the signal for takeoff. 

 

This was going to be a long flight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for a fairly uneventful wrap up, but the Reyes fam needs to survive in mostly one piece for reasons. Thanks for reading my self-indulgent nonsense! Still no beta-read, we die like men.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this not long after the first leak of an image of Sombra so it's entirely rooted in headcanons that can hardly be reconciled with canon. Still, it's an AU that I love and want to share. Besides, who doesn't want more of dad!gabe and his terrible horrible strays? I know I don't. 
> 
> no beta-read, please have mercy on my soul.


End file.
